“Does it taste good?”

“Does it look good?”

“Does it sound good?”

“Does it smell good?”

“Is it pretty?”

“Is it cute?”

“Do you like it?”

“Do you want to go there?”

“Is it worth it?”

“Is it famous?”

“Is it interesting?”

“Is it like a dream?”

Silence… a silence that is always (from origin to terminal) similar, yet never the same.

Even though tragedised love-thinking is the eternal normality, there remains a strand of possibility—that unexpected love-thinking might, amidst the tragedised experience-process, suddenly thrust itself into one dream-thinking after another.

Dreams are often misunderstood, just as people are frequently misinterpreted.

However, often, frequently and any notion of normality all have gaps, just as all silences have gaps of varying forms…

A misunderstood dream, or a misinterpreted person, can close any such gap with the

greatest of ease.

Why with the greatest of ease? The word beautiful had never existed in so-and-so's linguistic intuition, until that person’s eye of intuition, in a cramped, dust-covered corner, gazed in astonishment as the word beautiful drifted to and from; To gaze upon a word is to gaze upon a person, just as it is to gaze upon a dream, and even more so to gaze upon a love-thinking that has spanned almost an entire lifetime, whilst everything being gazed upon undergoes automatism-advance…

Liking someone can be effortless, as if all that liking were undergoing automatism-advance.

To love someone with Vividness-Love is either to surrender to linguistic intuition or to resist it… To surrender takes but a second; it is a comedy—like the drama that lies silent and submerged within the word beautiful—and a comedy is nothing but a performance that fulfils expectations, with every make-up and costume in place; To resist is not to resist a person, nor a single word or many words spoken by a person, nor even a single dream or the countless dream-illusions of a person, but rather to resist one’s own love-thinking and dream-thinking—those steadfast loves-thinking and lucid dream-thinking that, at every moment, expects to possess infinite power amidst this automatism-advance.

Unfortunately, closure is the tragedy that arrives as expected.

Who would be the first to choose closure?

Who would be indifferent and unfazed to closure?

Fortunately, a moment of inconspicuous silence—gently pushed aside by a dream-thinking devoid of any aesthetic appeal—opened a narrow, crooked window: a dream is a form of intuition; a dream-thinking is an Intuition-Imagination distinct from a dream; whilst a dream-illusion is an Intuition-Illusion distinct from both a dream and a dream-thinking; Love—is another form of intuition; love-thinking is an intuitive imagination distinct from love, whilst love-orexis—is an Intuition-Illusion distinct from both love and love-thinking; Love—is never a dream; dream-thinking—has always contained love; and love-desire—coexists eternally with phantasy; Love-Thinking and dream-thinking exist in parallel, yet are also fused and sychronized.

Who would choose resistance within love-thinking? The imbalance of power is immense, defeat is a foregone formality, and the situation is utterly bleak…

Is so-and-so in a state of vegetative existence when it comes to love-thinking? Lacking words, lacking language, nearly unimaginable, nearly inexpressible…

An unexpected encounter between love-thinking and dream-thinking—surely it cannot escape this endless and perpetual tragedy, can it?

If that is the case, then let it be spontaneous and random!

One might simply sheer-desire in a situation devoid of any fragrance and thoroughly unworthy… piecing together a thread of talent, a touch of imagination, a burst of creativity, a glimpse of innovation, and a handful of commitment… Just as a mischievous child stubbornly pieces together tiny clay-bricks or light toy-bricks… and just as a clumsy hand silently fuses with another soft, limp clay-hand or another loose, scattered sand-eye …

Why might a person’s Love-Thinking Language be so impoverished as to be at a loss for words?

Why must a person’s Ego-Echo rely on Revised-Words?

Sheer-Desire is neither Desire nor Imagination.

Human, Love, Think, Dream—none of these are universal terms.

So, what exactly is tragedy? A form of time-intuition.

Indeed, time-intuition—exists within consciousness, instinct, and the senses & perceptions.

Consciousness-Intuition, Instinct-Intuition, Senses & Perceptions-Intuition—each possesses its own distinct form of time-intuition.

If time does not necessarily exist within any intuition, might we then allow another dream-thinking process—devoid of any sense of beauty—to leisurely push open yet another crooked, narrow window?

Human beings anchor themselves to Sheer-Intuition.

Sapiens anchor themselves to Language-Intuition.

The Cosmos-Ego is anchored to Vivid-Intuition.

What the Cosmos-Ego does not forget is this: Sheer-Intuition is the only complete intuition.

By now, has so-and-so detected love-thinking and dream-thinking? The image below depicts one such crooked, narrow window.